“Kill me,” I said. “That’s my answer!”

Alba snapped her head toward me, eyes narrowing.

In a flash, she broke free from whatever force restrained her and launched herself at Fena, slamming the tiny elf into the ground, hands clenched around her delicate body.

“Seriously, human? Kill you? That’s your grand idea?” she spat. “Don’t you think it’s a bit selfish? By ending your life, you’re ending mine too!”

She whirled around, voice booming.

“Listen up, Aeliths! If you want this little insect to keep breathing, I suggest you lower your weapons—now!”

But before anyone could react, an arrow whistled through the trees—thwack—burying itself deep into Alba’s back.

She didn’t show any reaction. Her expression simply… darkened. No blood came out either.

“Hmph… Not willing to cooperate, huh?” she growled. “Let’s see if you regret that!”

With a single, brutal motion, she tore one of Fena’s wings clean off.

Not a flicker of emotion crossed her face.

“Argh!” Fena shrieked, convulsing in Alba’s grip.  “Stay back! She is not bluffing.”

“Bluffing, huh?” Alba scoffed. “Let’s see… what shall I rip off next? Your arms?”

Fena’s expression twisted with sheer terror. She knew—everyone knew—that Alba had no soft spot for any creature.

“So, will you let us go through this damn barrier or should I do things my way?” Alba threatened.

“You can’t get in!” Fena gasped through the pain. “Only pure creatures can pass!”

“Oh, is that so?” Alba sneered. “So, I may be a dirty sinner in your eyes, and so might they, but who do you think you are to judge us?”

“O-our village has been protected from any exterior attacks for centuries using this method,” Fena stammered. “It is thanks to this miasma that the wicked mage couldn’t detect it!”

“We came here with you to help you, Fena,” I said, my voice shaking. “We trusted you, but you intended to annihilate us all along!”

“That… that is not true!” Fena cried. “From the moment I saw you I recognized you, Mia. You’re not as weak as you think. These two—” she glared at Alba and Asher, “They are using you. I am the one trying to save you! Don’t let them manipulate you!”

At these words, Alba pressed harder on her tiny body, seeming to take pleasure in the warm blood dripping from her hand.

“Agh!”

“The decision to believe in someone is hers to make,” Alba murmured, turning to me. “But I am curious on what choice you’ll make, Mia. Maybe you’ll sacrifice everything for the sake of unveiling your true identity… After all, if I recall correctly, your journey in this world began because you wanted to know more about your cursed nature, yes?”

Her words were awfully enticing —like demons’ whispers.

“Violence won’t clear this miasma, Alba,” Asher said solemnly. “If the only way out is through this mist, but our ‘impure’ nature bars us, then why not let her go in alone?”

Alba opened her hand, waiting for Fena’s answer.

“It’s possible,” Fena replied, cradling her torn wing. “But know this: She’ll face harsh trials to get you out. If she fails, you’re all finished.”

“So be it!” I said, rising to my feet. “It’s not like we have other options,” I whispered facing the void. “I’ll do it.”

“I will go with her,” Thalor said firmly. “If the Syr energy I absorbed from the Velmorr sea is what’s stopping me, then I’ll shed it.”

“Then you’ll be nothing but a helpless, empty shell,” Fena scoffed. “What use would you have to her without your magic?”

“Thalor, I’ll be fine,” I said. “I may be cursed, but I made it this far. Don’t worry.”

Fena raised her hand in a swift, sharp motion.

Three female elves drifted toward us waltzing on the air, as if carried by an invisible melody.

Before I could think, the ground stirred. Leaves spiraled up, surrounding me in a graceful dance, before swallowing me whole.

I felt as if I were sinking into an infinite ocean of leaves. Their feathery touch caressed my skin, gentle, calming, almost like silk. Then, suddenly, a warm and soothing ray of sunlight pierced through the leafy barrier, flooding my vision with gold and green. It welcomed me into a vibrant, colorful village brimming with life.

My mind felt light—free, pure, unburdened—as if the weight of the world had slipped off my shoulders the moment I crossed that veil of leaves.

Fena approached me, limping slightly with each step. Now that we stood eye to eye, same size, I realized how delicate and beautiful she was. Her eyes shimmered like diamonds, and her long, wavy hair flowed in the breeze, utterly mesmerizing.

“My wings will grow back eventually,” she said. “But it will be a pain to move around freely. So, I’ll summon a ride. Zephariel nael!

A majestic deer appeared from the sky, descending gracefully through the clouds. It landed beside us, its horns glowing with a soft, ivory light.

“I’ll give you a tour of our village,” she said, hopping onto the creature’s back. “I promise you’ll enjoy every moment!”

“What is this creature?” I asked, running my fingers through its soft, velvety fur. It was warm, soft, almost too perfect to be real.

“It’s an Elarin, which means ‘deer’ in your language,” she explained, leaning comfortably against its back. “This one used to guard our village from outsiders. But due to an unfortunate incident he was brought back in as the elder’s escort. We call him a Zephariel now, a magical, flying deer.”

As I looked into his eyes and studied his gentle expression, I couldn’t help but feel he was more than just a beast.

“Let’s go!” Fena said with a spark of excitement.

From above, the village looked as though it had been carved into the very trees themselves. Homes and pathways intertwined with the massive trunks and branches, forming an elegant harmony with nature. Greenery was everywhere, thick canopies of leaves filtered the sunlight into dappled patterns, and flowering vines wrapped around wooden structures like living decorations. If I could describe it briefly, it was a world untouched by cruelty.

It was a breathtaking sight, as if the forest itself had grown to shelter its people.

Fena whispered something into the Zephariel’s ear. At her command, the creature glided downward in a gentle arc, landing beside a secluded, weathered house nestled among the trees. 

“I’ll introduce you to our elder,” Fena said, her voice calm. “She is a very wise Aelith, so there is nothing to fear.”

She raised her hand and knocked gently, her fingers barely brushing the wood.

The door creaked open on its own, as if it had been expecting us.

A tall man emerged to greet us.

“Welcome, Lady Fena. It has been quite a long time,” he said bowing his head with respect.

He seemed like a butler, or perhaps a guardian. Whatever his role, he was no less striking than the other creatures I’ve encountered so far.

“You have a guest?” he asked, glancing at me with curiosity.

“Yes,” Fena replied. “Please inform my Great-Aunt that we’ve arrived.”

“Of course. Please, follow me to the living room, I’ll prepare some tea.”

“I’ll go change first,” Fena said, glancing at her reflection in a polished mirror near the entrance. Her gaze lingered on the torn wing. “I’d rather not have her see me like this. Enjoy our hospitality, Mia. Our tea is the best!”

I followed the man, my eyes drawn to the wide courtyard at the center of the house. It pulsed with life and light. For a moment, it felt as if they were harvesting—light itself. Not metaphorically —literally.

“Have a seat, my Lady,” he said with a nod, gesturing toward a low, cushioned bench near a table carved from the trunk of an ancient tree. “I’ll return shortly.”

The furniture was neither extravagant nor plain. Each piece seemed to flow to the next, seamlessly connected as if carved from a single vision. The table and couches were fused with the wooden floor, as if they had grown from it. The wall curved gently with no sharp corners —everything was smooth, organic and very relaxing.

Light steps echoed from the corridor, light and graceful yet very imposing. Without realizing it, I stood to welcome this unknown figure.

A slender woman emerged, her long dark hair cascading like a midnight waterfall under moonlight, her deep green eyes sharp and discerning. Despite her youthful features, she couldn’t have looked older than her mid-twenties.

“Greetings, human. I am Sylvara, the esteemed elder of Syltharyn.”

This is her Great-Aunt! Oh God… these creatures really don’t age.

“My name is Mia, my Lady. I am—”

“I know,” she interrupted. “My little niece’s guest.” she took a seat across from me, her tone amused. “You’ve got more in you than I’ve been told. This is going to be fun!”

 The butler placed the tea set gently on the table and poured two cups, and took his position behind her in silence.

I picked up my cup, more to keep my hands busy than to drink. The silence between us was thick, and every time she leaned toward her butler to whisper, my discomfort deepened.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting, Great-Aunt,” Fena said, rushing in.

“Being away for centuries doesn’t grant you the right to be this insolent, little one,” Sylvara replied, sipping her tea without glancing at her.

Then her eyes flicked to me. “Now—tell me, is this the one?”

“Yes, your Ladyship.” Fena replied.

She rose and approached me, her emerald eyes locked onto mine. When she reached me, she leaned in without a word, placing one hand on the armrest to my left, then the other to my right, trapping me in place.

Her cold, dark hair brushed my shoulder as she bent slightly forward. There was something in her presence, commanding and unreadable, that made my breath falter. I didn’t know whether to avert my eyes or meet her gaze head-on. My fingers tightened around the teacup in my hands, seeking some kind of anchor.

“This is no tea, you’re drinking,” she murmured. “Yet here you are willingly drinking warm water without complaints. You never learn, do you?”

“I—I do not mind drinking warm water, you see,” I hesitated.

“Well,” she said, a sharp grin forming, “I’d rather not have our guest thinking warm water is the pride of Syltharyn’s hospitality.”

She turned slightly, lifting her chin. “Now, pour her real tea, butler.”

The butler stepped forward and offered me a fresh cup. Steam rose from its surface, carrying the familiar, calming scent of chamomile.

My breath hitched.

This scent… it’s the same one I remember… from that old man, when it all began.

Sylvara watched me closely, reading every flicker of emotion on my face.

“Why don’t you take a sip,” she said gently, “and find out?”

“You… you are—” I stammered, the words dissolving on my tongue.